


A day at the fair

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Greg is Sweet, M/M, Mycroft Feels, Pre-Relationship, Sherlock Being a Good Brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: Four years after Sherrinford, Greg and Mycroft meet again by chance.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77
Collections: Mystrade is our Division





	A day at the fair

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to Doyle, Gattis, and Moffat.  
> English is not my first language, this was translated with the help of a translator. I regret any mistake.  
> Originally written for the Facebook group Mystrade is our division: writters and readers

Greg dodged, laughing, another group of children, surrounding another popcorn stand, when a head of blond curls crashed into his legs. Staggering slightly he held the little one to prevent her from falling before he could actually see her. He was beginning to apologize when an unmistakable voice made him look up.  
\- Rosamund! I said don’t walk away from me!  
Mycroft stopped, surprised, at the equally surprised look of the detective. Greg looked down to find Rosamund Watson's slightly frightened face.  
\- Hello, little bug!  
The girl did not respond to his smile as she normally did. Instead she slipped away to cling to Mycroft's legs.   
\- You're not taking me home! I'm with Uncle Mycroft. Uncle Sherlock promised me to spend the day with him.  
The girl hugged the redhead even more, who caressed his head while staring at the stupefied Lestrade. With a sigh, he finally knelt down to be at the height of the girl, who was looking at him with her big blue eyes wide open.  
\- Come on, Rosamund. No one's taking you anywhere. Watch Detective Inspector Lestrade and tell me what you see.  
The girl seemed to relax at the touch and tone of Mycroft.  
\- He doesn't wear the clothes he usually wears when he comes home for work. He doesn't wear jeans or a leather jacket when he works, and he doesn't seem angry.  
\- Very good. What else?  
\- He hasn't shaved. So it must be his day off.   
\- And what does his body language tell us?  
The girl looked at Greg frowning.  
\- He's not tense, he doesn't squeeze his jaw like when he and Uncle Sherlock look for someone. And he didn’t throw me to the ground when I crashed into he. So él wasn't running or walking fast.  
\- Well, he's relaxed and walking. Would that be his attitude if he were at a fair full of kids looking for a little girl to take her away?  
Rosamund seemed to deliberate before shake his head.  
\- Well, what do you say you say hello to Detective Lestrade how he deserves it and then we go to those bumper cars?  
At last calmly, the little girl smiled before greeting him.  
\- Hello, Uncle Greg.  
\- Hello, Rosie. That was awesome. Are they teaching you how to deduce?  
\- Uncle Sherlock teaches me to deduct and Uncle Mycroft teaches me to correct his deductions and when to keep them to myself. That's "almost always".  
Greg couldn't help but laugh, looking funny at Mycroft, who seemed to be making great efforts not to laugh too.  
\- Wow, that's great. God knows England couldn't stand another Sherlock Holmes.  
\- Yes. I try to correct my mistakes. Apparently the part about "you don't have to say it all" didn't fit my little brother. I promise I tried.  
\- I'm sure he did. And are you enjoying the fair, Rossie?  
As he spoke, the girl gave Mycroft a hesitant look that the man seemed to understand, as he nodded as he lifted and put his hand on his shoulder, encouraging she.  
\- Yes! we've been on the Ferris wheel and now we're going to the bumper cars, and then Uncle Mycroft says I'll be able to eat cotton candy and....  
The girl stopped abruptly, looking at Mycroft, who encouraged her with her head to continue, with a soft smile that Greg had never seen.  
\- Uncle Greg is a friend of Dad's. And Dad doesn't want me to take cotton candy before lunch...  
\- Well, it'll be a small cotton candy, and I'm sure your Uncle Gregory won't mind keeping the secret from us.  
Hearing Greg's full name made her laugh.  
\- Nobody calls him that! It's Greg, or Graham, or Gavin when Uncle Sherlock is being a little childish. Why do you call him that?  
\- It's his name. What else should I call him? I also call you Rosamund, don't I? What do we say about names?  
\- Your name is your first possession and it's what sets you apart from others. No one can take it away from you. Did you know each other?  
Mycroft and Greg shared a look.  
\- Yes, your uncle and I are old acquaintances.  
\- That's great! Do you think we can trust him with the secret then?  
Greg felt Mycroft's gaze pierce him as if he could see his soul. It was incredible to realize how much he had missed those eyes.  
\- Yes. I think we can. Detective Lestrade is, without a doubt, one of the most trustworthy people I have ever met.  
He looked for some trace of mockery, but there was nothing, and felt an unknown heat grow inside his stomach. It was strange, but at the same time it wasn't, to see Mycroft so relaxed. His product-free hair curled slightly in copper tones. He had exchanged his three-piece suit for jeans and a white shirt with a jacket. It was how he had always imagined he would be the man under the armor. And suddenly he didn't want that fortuitous encounter to end.  
\- Since the three of us are walking, how about we do it together?   
It is much more comfortable than meeting every few meters and ending up tired of greeting us.  
Rossie applauded enthusiastically and started dragging them to the attractions, listing everything she wanted to do and all the places she wanted to climb. The two men followed her without speaking, smiling slightly and somewhat lost in their memories. It wasn't until Rossie was secured on the merry-go-round that Greg dared to speak.  
\- It's been a long time.  
\- Yes...  
\- I thought you weren't going down Baker Street.  
\- I don't. But that doesn't stop part of Baker Street from coming to me.  
He smiled a little without taking his eyes off the girl who greeted them at every turn and Greg took the opportunity to look at him as he remembered the days after Sherrinford. How Mycroft distanced himself from his brother and the little family he had created with his friends and acquaintances. He finally gave her the freedom he so demanded, and by walking away from Sherlock, Mycroft had also walked away from Greg.  
\- Sherlock didn't let you go too far, did he?  
Mycroft laughed briefly, smiling affectionately.  
\- Typical, isn't it? You give him what he wants and it turns out he doesn't want it anymore. After Sherrinford...- He sighed, like holding an internal debate. When the silence lasted so long that Greg thought he would never say anything again, he continued, - after Sherrinford I reconsidered many things. And I decided that it was useless to try to control everything. I could spend the rest of my life watching Eurus, watching Sherlock, trying to keep them safe. But it wouldn't matter. They'd do whatever they wanted, and I'd... I just decided to step aside. It seemed like the best. Sherlock had a lot of things to live for: Eurus, John, Rosamund. His friends. His work with you. He would be safe.  
\- But he didn't agree.  
\- And when does Sherlock agree on something with me!?  
The two laughed as Rossie greeted them shouting with joy.  
\- No. He showed up at home one night, a year later, with Rosamund. Dr. Watson had a guard and the girl refused to fall asleep. He remembered that he used to read to him and Eurus before going to sleep. He remembered many things...- - Mycroft's smile was sad, lost in his memories too. He shook his head, taking control again, and began to come regularly. Alone, or with the girl. For some strange reason, she loves me. And I must admit that I enjoy her company. She's a very smart girl. More than most of my woorkmates. Sherlock keeps breaking into my house at least once a week. Or my office. Or he make up problems to consult me about. I've never seen Dr. Watson again. I haven't wanted to go back to Baker Street. I have nothing to do there.  
\- Is John still mad at you?  
\- Yes, I suppose so. I didn't do my job right, and his wife died. One of mine killed her. And he almost died. I can't really blame him.  
Greg had a sudden dislike for John.  
\- It wasn't your fault.  
\- It doesn't matter if it was or not. He needs to blame someone. I don't care if it's me.  
\- He can't accept you into his life but he can accept that you take care of his daughter?  
\- Well, the theory says he doesn't know that I take care of Rosamund when they or Molly cannot. He knows, of course. It cost Sherlock a couple of arguments at first, but now we're fine. She doesn't tell him about me or what we do when we go out, nor about his room in the mansion, he doesn't ask, I enjoy my time with Rosamund as I once did with my brothers and he is at ease knowing that his daughter is loved and protected. Sherlock is calm and happy. It's a good deal, Gregory.  
For some reason, Greg had a hard time accepting that it was okay, but he had to recognize that everyone seemed happy with things as they were. He felt a strange lump in his throat and decided that if everyone had taken a step forward, he should too.  
\- I missed you.  
Mycroft looked at him, a soft look that spun his stomach.  
\- You could have called me.  
His pulse accelerated.  
\- Would you have answered me?  
\- I've always answered you, Gregory. I may have kept things from you, or I may not always be able to answer your questions, but I have never stopped answering you.  
Greg thought about it for a moment, thought about how many times he had wanted to pick up the phone and hear his voice on the other side, even if only for a moment. Suddenly it seemed so simple...  
\- And what would I have told you?  
Mycroft gave him that sarcastic smile he had missed so much.  
\- Well, I think those things start with a "hello..."  
Greg smiled, but they didn't have time for more. The carousel had stopped and Rosamund was throwing himself into the arms of Mycroft, who grabbed her effortlessly.  
\- Did you see me turn, Uncle Mycroft!? It was great! Can we have cotton candy now? And then we can go to the shooting galleries! Uncle Greg, Uncle Mycroft is the best shooter in the world!. He always gets me stuffed animals and toys, knocks down all the cans.  
Greg looked at the couple, still smiling. Mycroft gave him back a funny smile.  
\- Yes, finally my years of training and field work make sense. I knew they'd be good for something someday. The Taxpayers should be prouds of the money invested in my preparation.  
As they moved away from the attraction, listening only halfway to the conversation between the little girl and the British Government, without being able to get a silly smile off his face, Greg couldn't help but think that their lives had been something like that merry-go-round: years of what seemed like meaningless circles, and now everything seemed to be in place.  
That night he would call Mycroft just to say "hello," and see where they were going from there. Far away, if the analyst's gaze was something to trust, and it used to be. Maybe a dinner, maybe more fairs with Rossie. What was certain was that he would never forget that day off when he decided to take a walk at the fair.


End file.
